


I'm Not Leaving

by lotorslance



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: James is 18, M/M, Past Shadam - Freeform, Slow Burn, Very briefly mentioned Sheith in the background
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-04
Updated: 2018-08-03
Packaged: 2019-06-21 11:43:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15556965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lotorslance/pseuds/lotorslance
Summary: A short fic that focuses on James' and Adam's relationship from its beginnings.





	1. I.

**Author's Note:**

> Not beta'd lol! Also v short/drabble-esque

Adam had always kept an eye on those rising steadily through the Garrison’s ranks. It was his job to put in a good word for those cadets who boasted top marks, not just in the simulator but on paper: hypothetical, strategic problem-solving was just as valued as being able to navigate through a video game, and that was exactly what James Griffin excelled at.   
  
He was a smart and skilled pilot who, unlike trouble-making Kogane, knew his place at the Garrison: quiet, reserved, and polite to his superiors. He had a bit of a mouth on him and while it’d led to a few select altercations, it’d never been serious enough to consider his removal from the astro-explorer program, especially with the tuition his parents were putting in to make sure he was living in the finest barracks, with the most robust meal-plan and access to the newly-built gym meant only for upperclassmen (which he barely used, but _still—_ it was a status symbol).   
  
Since his first days in the Garrison he’d fought to get the legendary Shiro’s attention, but that time had come and gone to no avail. Now Shiro had been lost to Kerberos due to a ‘pilot error’ and nothing felt the same anymore—not just for the cadets, but for the higher-ups, as well.  
  
Specifically one rather reserved higher-up, who was now rarely seen, only showing up at the cafeteria in its quietest hours, grabbing his food, stuffing it in a carry-out carton and retreating back to his office, finding his own Garrison-issued apartment now more like a prison than a home, ever since he’d been left to be its sole occupant despite its spaciousness.   
  
James liked being the center of attention among his friends, but he didn’t like to eat dinner too late, or it would mess with his evening schedule and make working out a lot more difficult than it should be, so he always arrived a little before the 5 o’clock dinner rush to get a head-start on digesting.   
  
For this reason, by fate alone they were bound to run in to one another at some point, and when they finally had, just a bit before the hoards of cadets and instructors alike made their way into the caf, James went into ultimate ass-kisser mode, nervously saluting the older man, who only tilted his head, a curious little smile taking over his lips. He ignored the way the grip on his tray faltered from the sight of the cadet’s blushing face, and asked: “Everything okay?”  
  
“Oh, uh…yes, Sir!” He avoided his superior’s eyes, focusing on not dropping his lunch tray, hand beginning to tremble as all the weight of his heavily-loaded plates balanced in a single hand.   
  
“At ease, Cadet,” Adam replied softly, and it somehow comforted James: he was kind, respected and generally well-liked in the Garrison’s community, but he hadn’t expected him to actually give off this calming sort of energy. “Griffin, right?”  
  
Tentatively, his pointed hand made its way back to the opposite end of the lunch tray, and he hoped the relief didn’t show on his face. “Yes, sir.”   
  
Willingly or not, Adam had been witness to many conversations centering around James due to his supposed rivalry with Keith. The cadet would complain to Shiro about what a jerk he was, how he needed to get put in his place.   
  
“Shiro’s told me a lot about you.” Adam took a step forward, and suddenly, the strong scent of ginger washed over James, enveloping him almost kindly despite its spicy vigor.   
  
“You’re Shiro’s…,” James didn’t finish, turning his head to hide his darkening cheeks and eyeing the ground. He shouldn’t have started saying it, as he realized only after the words had left his mouth that Adam’d probably heard the words time and time again.  
  
“Ex,” Adam finished it for him easily, the smile not leaving his lips. He’d long since moved on from Shiro, but he’d be lying if he’d claim his ‘death’ hadn’t shook him. Still, it’d been some time since getting that news, and he was finally beginning to take interest in others again.   
  
James was certainly attractive—not the type he usually went for, but attractive nevertheless.   
  
And smart.  
  
“Yeah…”  
  
“You look uncomfortable.”   
  
His back stiffened, and he sheepishly gazed up into Adam’s eyes and took a moment to contemplate his current situation. Hovering over him was a hot, well-established, charming young man…but he was Shiro’s— _the_ Shiro’s—ex. There was no way he stood a chance.  
  
“Just…nervous, Sir.”  
  
“No need for formalities. I’ve heard a lot about you; you were in Shiro’s initial recruitment class, weren’t you? Along with Kogane.”  
  
“I went to school with him.”   
  
“Right…”  
  
James looked everywhere but at him, a bit too obvious in the way he tried to ignore the way that scent of ginger, paired with those soft brown eyes, was seriously getting to him.   
  
It was too much.  
  
“S-Sorry, ‘m gonna go eat now,” ducking his head, bangs falling to cover an eye, he rushed passed the officer, going to the very back corner table and plopping down his tray, making sure his back was to the exit: he could feel his gaze still on him, but he wasn’t going to turn around.  
  
His cheeks were bright red.


	2. II.

“How could you let them say that?!”   
  
Keith’s yells echoed through the hallway leading up to Adam’s office and James froze in his tracks, pressing his back up to the nearest wall as a cold sweat coated his body.   
  
“You know better than anyone it wasn’t some _‘pilot error!’”_   
  
James’s eyes dropped down to the small bouquet of flowers in his hand, and suddenly, he felt absolutely ridiculous. Tears welled up in his eyes as he continued to listen in on the seemingly one-sided argument:  
  
“Why are you giving up?!”   
  
“I don’t—“  
  
“Then why?”   
  
“Keith, you have to calm down. Someone will hear—“  
  
“I’ll tell anyone who wants to know: Shiro _didn’t_ mess up!”   
  
How foolish he’d been to come bearing flowers, when Adam was still dealing with the loss of his ex, still trying to process it himself, still mourning…  
  
No, despite how close they’d grown, he didn’t belong at his side, not during a time like this: he was just some kid, a brat who’d been lucky enough to catch the eye of someone important.  
  
This wasn’t some young adult romance novel: he wasn’t the main character that knew how to fix everything with a sudden declaration of passion, and Adam wasn’t his fated love interest. They were just two people, living very different lives that happened to occupy the same facility.   
  
Despite all the time they’d been spending with one another during dinner, they were practically still strangers: there was no way James could ever comprehend what Adam was going through.   
  
He turned on his heel, tossing the flowers and sprinting back to his dorm.   
  
The door to Adam’s office whirred open behind Keith as it detected movement, and he fell silent, turning to see the fallen bouquet.   
  
Adam’s face hardened and he brushed past Keith, kneeling down and picking it up with care, eyeing the gorgeous arrangement of fresh ginger flowers.   
  
The knot in his stomach softened considerably: there was no doubt who this was from, he thought, as he thumbed over the little nestled card with _'For Adam'_ impeccably scrawled in black ink. 


	3. III.

James pulled himself up out of bed, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes with a noisy yawn. His stomach was still in knots over yesterday, but it couldn’t be helped—this is what happened when you pined over the hot, unachievable older officer.   
  
Smiling in a self-deprecating kind of way, he stretched, giving another big yawn before the turn of his head guided his eyes to a small, folded piece of paper lying on the floor right near the crack of his door.  
  
Intrigued, he plucked it up, leaning back as he unfolded it and read its hand-written contents:  
  
 _‘James,_  
  
 _The ginger flowers are great. They’re currently on display next to my succulents. I’ll be putting them to dry in a few days._  
  
 _Would you like to come see my collection? I’m free after 3 p.m._  
  
 _Fourth floor, apt. 416._  
  
 _A.’_   
  
Such old-school tactics were practically unheard of, but it hadn’t stopped either of them. Bouquets, hand-written notes…they were both romantics, through-and-through.   
  
James’ fingers shook as he held the letter, not realizing he was smiling until he finally tore his eyes from the handwriting to glance up at himself in the mirror, being greeted with the stupidest grin and flushed cheeks.


	4. IV.

“I’m sorry you had to overhear our conversation without context.”   
  
“No, it’s—it’s fine. I get it.” He didn’t—not really, there was no way to completely—but he hoped Adam understood the sentiment.   
  
An eyebrow cocked, a small smile taking over his lips as he scooted closer to James on the couch, neatly crossing a leg over the other. James’ fists clenched on his lap, and he avoided looking over at Adam, avoided thinking about just how close he was, in this moment: he knew it was closer than usual by the way his spicy scent filled his senses.  
  
“It’s been difficult.”  
  
“Oh…oh, I—I imagine. Yeah…”   
  
“It’s not like I don’t feel guilt,” he sighed, smile fading from his lips as he turned his head down, glasses sliding to the tip of his nose. At a loss for words, he just shook his head.   
  
“But…but, you’re not barred from being happy again? Like…”   
  
James tilted his head, trying to catch his eye beneath those sandy bangs.  
  
“You deserve to be able to move on.”   
  
A silence filled the empty apartment and James sat back, feeling as though maybe, just maybe, he’d messed things up for good, staring blankly forward like a deer in headlights. The thought nearly paralyzed him, and he realized how much he wanted to be able to stay visiting Adam’s office in the evenings, how much he wanted to give him comfort and reassure him that he was going to be all right despite his part in this tragedy.   
  
He wanted to be the one that Adam cried to, and the one that made him laugh again. He wanted to be the one he could turn to and the one he could open his heart up to.   
  
Wow…he’d fallen hard for him, hadn’t he?  
  
A little gasp escaped his lips as he felt a hand Adam shift next to him, uncrossing his legs, their knees bumping against one another.   
  
That was the first time their knees had touched.   
  
“Do I?”

**Author's Note:**

> Six little chapters are planned out total, so five more are coming and are already half-written! Praying I can finish publishing this before s7 drops and everything is contradicted by canon. This is my new crackship OTP, ya'll.


End file.
